


Photos

by Star_By_Star



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Other, ineffable husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:53:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22191352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_By_Star/pseuds/Star_By_Star
Summary: Crowley's been taking photos of Aziraphale for as long as he's been able.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 61





	Photos

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt courtesy of the Good Omens Prompt page on tumblr.

Crowley's been taking photos of Aziraphale for as long as he's been able. 

He's got one from the corronation of Nicholas II of Russia. The sight of Aziraphale bundled up in his lumpy, shapeless frock coat, excessively large, fluffy papakha hat nearly sliding down over his eyes was one that Crowley still took great delight in, even now.

He aslo had one from the 1920's at a seance in Boston. Both Harry Houdini and Arthur Conan Doyle had been in attendance, and _that_ was a cat fight Crowley would remember for decades to come. The discomfort written all over the angel's face, stuck as he was in his seat between the two seething men was another memory Crowley would look back on gleefully from time to time.

One of his personal favorites was from sometime back in the 1960's when he'd first managed to get Aziraphale **stupendously** drunk. They'd been in some small, American as apple pie town in West Virginia called Point Pleasant and Crowley had drunkenly challenged Aziraphale to a race from one end of the county to the other. Without even a second's hesitation, Aziraphale uncased his wings and gracelessly launched himself into the air. Fortunately, they managed to avoid encountering most of the town's human residents as they giggled and freewheeled across the sky, except for two unfortunate couples that managed to catch a glimpse of a "flying man....creature....something" in the rearview mirror of their car. The next day, Crowley managed to snap a picture of a still passed out Aziraphale dangling precariously from the top of a telephone poll.

He still gave the angel shit about that one.

His special favorite, however, was one he took not long after the Apocalypse-That-Wasn't. 

Aziraphale was fast asleep (for only perhaps the first or second time in several millenia Crowley had known him) in Crowley's bed, wearing one of Crowley's old, fluffy black bathrobes. His hair stuck up in every direction and his mouth hung open the slightest bit, one hand curled loosely on the pillow beside him. 

That one didn't go in the album with the others, though. If anyone somehow managed to get a look at Crowley's phone, they would see that it was his screensaver.


End file.
